


To Depths of Blue

by Girlofmanyfandoms



Category: Free!
Genre: Cancer, Gen, I am so sorry, Lots of introspection ft. Makoto at his bedside, M/M, Originally an English assignment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-01
Updated: 2014-10-01
Packaged: 2018-02-19 11:44:23
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,438
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2387105
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Girlofmanyfandoms/pseuds/Girlofmanyfandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haru swears he can hear the ocean.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Depths of Blue

**Author's Note:**

> So, seeing as it's almost cancer awareness month, I figured that would be a good topic for my English short story, as I know quite a bit about it as my father had cancer. Then, as I completed it I noticed that if I tweaked it a bit it would sound a lot like Haru. Thus, this was born.  
> This is set after the first season, so no spoilers for anything recent.  
> This is my first fanwork ever, so please be gentle with me! Feel free to point out any errors!  
> The name came about from the Free! Soundtrack, the track To depths of blue really went with what I was feeling as I was writing.

Death, they say, is a frightening experience. When I had thought of how my life was to end years ago in a small expression of morbidity, I do not believe I would have pictured this, the immeasurable pain and the overwhelming atmosphere of sadness and mourning surrounding my deathbed. I feel as if I am sinking down into the unfathomable depths of the ocean, not quite drowning but not being able to breathe either. The ocean's water used to be a comfort to me, and its familiarity is somewhat soothing as I drift in my mind. It finally becomes clear to me that my time is rapidly approaching me. I don't want to leave Makoto behind. 

It all began with gradual changes in my health. I became extremely fatigued after doing little at all, much less swimming. Makoto even had to save me at one more memorable point because I could no longer move and sank like a rock. I became weaker and frailer as time went on, arousing the concern of Makoto and my other friends. I started becoming full more quickly after eating barely anything, even rejecting my beloved mackerel, this only exacerbating my conditions. It was at this point I could no longer justify it as a nasty virus or something equally as ridiculous; I was reaching, and Makoto could tell. He became more and more desperate for answers as I only got sicker and sicker. Finally, he brought me to the hospital only to receive perhaps the worst news of his life. I never want to see Makoto cry that way again. 

Eight months, they said. Eight more months of forcing air into my aching lungs and pretending it doesn’t take every ounce of strength I possess. I am convinced that is Makoto alone that is keeping me alive. They had tried every treatment that they could think of, yet it still persists against all odds. Perhaps I was not supposed to survive even this long. Perhaps I was never meant to become ordinary. Still, I must carry on, if not for myself then for those I love. Makoto. My only fear left in this world is of the sadness he will have to suffer, and how he will carry on after I… I go. I know one thing and one thing only for certain; my end is inevitable. Well, forget that. I know also that I will love Makoto and only Makoto for the rest of eternity, however much of it I have left.

All that my world contains anymore are the sterile white of the crisp sheets around me smelling faintly of antiseptic, the stark walls bearing no personal touch, and the ever-present odor of hospital and the undertones of incurable disease. I long to go outside and feel the fresh air even for a moment, yet I cannot so much as breathe outside this room for the inevitable onslaught of infections invited in by my lowered immune system, so leaving this room is out of the question. Back when I was not yet accustomed to the incessant beeping of various machines by my bedside and could still manage to walk short distances before it began affecting my legs as well as my immune system so much, I was allowed to briefly glimpse the outside of this stark white, suffocating room once in a while. I miss those days far more than I care to admit. I cannot even stand to open the window any longer; it causes me to be far too sad. After all, the only thing I want in this world is to swim with those I care about. I long to swim with them again; Rei, Nagisa, Rin, Makoto. 

I think that death can be looked at as not only an end but also as a beginning to something. To what, I cannot begin to fathom, but Amakata-sensei once said that every ending is also a beginning. I am hoping with all of my failing heart that it is not simply an end point. Death used to frighten me, but long, hard months of being in treatment and seeing no success prepares you for it, I think. There is nothing quite as terrifying as knowing the horrors of how your own body can turn against you. I'm more scared for Makoto, for how he will carry on after. I hope he will take care of himself, if not for himself then for me. I can't have him joining me well before his time. I used to have faith that I would survive and get to grow up with Makoto by my side, but the reality is that I will probably not live past my next birthday, if I even make it to then. 

It was stage three when they caught it for the first time, but since then it has further mutated into stage four. I have been additionally diagnosed with anemia as well as thrombocytopenia, meaning I have both too few red blood cells as well as not enough blood platelets, plus an enlarged spleen which prevents me from eating much at all. Here I lay, unable to function like a normal person my age, unable to so much as move without extreme pain in my body. I dream of floating and a calming green most nights. I predict that if I could see myself in a mirror right now, I would not see the healthy, glowing skin I once had, the black, silky hair smelling faintly of chlorine, and the glittering deep blue eyes full of life that only Makoto could read. I can almost see it in my mind, the happiness I once had and the semblance of freedom I had possessed. Now, all that one can see is the reality of my sallow, pale skin with dull eyes only a shadow of what I once was. 

I have stage four chronic lymphocytic leukemia. It is a kind of leukemia that changes between developing slowly and rapidly, so it is almost never detected early. By the time all of the symptoms make themselves known, you could already be counting your last moments. By the point we discovered the cancer it was almost irreversible. This is not counting its ability to fight the interminable rounds of chemo and radiation; anything that we tried to kill it showed no sign of working. 

At 7:32 on a painfully normal Thursday evening, after eight long months cooped up in this stifling hospital room, I finally come to the point where I must ultimately make my choice. Do I try to live a slightly longer life, perhaps only longer by hours, full of agony or do I select a peaceful death? I can see memories of a distant past floating through my mind; learning how to swim at five, the day I went on my first school field trip to the aquarium at six, joining the local swim club with Makoto, forming a swim team at our high school, being absolutely terrified while saving Makoto from the ocean, swimming that fateful relay where Rin was welcomed back. Makoto is always in the forefront of my memories, I cannot fathom what I would be like today without him. 'Maybe less hesitant to finally get it over with.' my mind supplies. What do I do? I also see things that could happen in the future that I will most likely never make it to; confessing to Makoto, our first kiss, making love for the first time, moving in together, going to college, everything I can only dream of now. The saddest thing is that I know exactly what Makoto would choose for me, that selfless bastard.

I have made my choice. I let myself close my eyes for the last time, Makoto's tearful words echoing in my head, “It’s okay, it's okay. I love you, Haruka.” I can vaguely feel the ghost of lips on my forehead and the caress of a large, warm hand on my own. I feel small drops falling onto me before all of the sensations fade almost completely. The faint sound of crying comes from beside me, muffled by the rushing of blood in my ears. I can almost hear the ocean within the all-consuming sound of nothingness. I choose to let go; I choose to let the calm ocean carry me away from my body. My last thought drifts lethargically through my mind: ‘I can finally be free.’

I whisper "I... love you... too, Makoto.", and let my thoughts go as I let myself sink into the abyss of the gently swaying ocean around me.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading this! If you're so inclined, drop a comment and give me some pointers or something. You can also just say hey or something, if you want.  
> My tumblr is kazenoaki.tumblr.com if you want to drop by or something


End file.
